A Prelude to an End, REWRITE
by ZephyrLegend
Summary: In 6th year when Hermione discovers that Harry's baseless accusations about Malfoy are more true than she had anticipated, she goes to Dumbledore who stages Draco's death and sends him into hiding. But that's not where her part ends. Full summary inside. Rated M for future content.
1. Prologue

_Summary: In 6th year when Hermione discovers that Harry's baseless accusations about Malfoy are more true than she had anticipated, she goes to Dumbledore who stages Draco's death and sends him into hiding. But that's not where her part ends. Dumbledore expects her to tutor him on the 6th year material. Left with more time together alone then ever before, they begin to see things differently, in this, the prelude to their end. _

Prologue

Hermione Granger by no means believed in divination. All that fumbling with the "inner eye", crystal balls, and tea leaves was a crock, in her humble opinion. Professor Trelawney in her mystical glory; that had been a laugh. Right before she'd been deeply insulted and promptly turned her back on the sheer ridiculousness of it.

But there was no denying, even to her, that every now and again something extraordinary happens. For good or ill, to be determined at the time of its occurrence, but something extraordinary nonetheless. Some would call it 'fate', others 'destiny'.

Hermione hated those terms, for it left no measure of control over her own life. Those terms, as far as she knew, had been invented by those with weak minds as a means to give up their own control, or to justify their lack of it.

But then things happen that make even her question these notions. Like dominoes, each action, each motive, each word falls, one after the other to form something beautiful and extraordinary.

Beautiful and extraordinary, and more precious than her own life.

Wand pointed ahead of her, she reflected on the actions, motives and words that took her here, standing on the brink of almost certain death. But whether or not she died, she knew that she would be safe, and that stripped her of her fear. It meant that her death would not be meaningless, should it come to that.

She looked beside her at the tall blonde man beside her. He gazed back at her, brown meeting grey.

"For Aurora." he whispered to her.

And they rushed haphazardly into the fray, with something worth fighting for.


	2. Chapter 1

_Summary: In 6th year when Hermione discovers that Harry's baseless accusations about Malfoy are more true than she had anticipated, she goes to Dumbledore who stages Draco's death and sends him into hiding. But that's not where her part ends. Dumbledore expects her to tutor him on the 6th year material. Left with more time together alone then ever before, they begin to see things differently, in this, the prelude to their end. _

Chapter 1

**Two Years Earlier **

Hermione woke with a start as her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. She couldn't remember where she was or even who she was, until her foggy mind regained full consciousness. She was Hermione Granger, sixth year Hogwarts student and top of her class.

It took her body quite a bit longer, however, to remember that she was safe and sound in the Gryffindor tower, in her four-poster bed. It was times like these that she was grateful for her silencing charms.

She'd begun having these dreams some time ago, and both she and her dormmates had thought it best to put them up. After all, they needed their sleep too. Aside from the few times she had been roused by her (at first concerned and later annoyed) dormmates, even Harry and Ron were none the wiser.

Harry had so much on his plate this year she would feel guilty burdening him with her problems. A problem she somehow couldn't put a finger on. She'd been having these dreams at least three times a week for months, and each time she could never remember much.

The only thing she could remember was her paralyzing fear for something worth more than her own life, and the words "For Aurora" whispered with a nameless voice. Something so vague would only serve to worry her friends unnecessarily, since there wasn't really anything she could do about it.

She let out a tired sigh and sat up. The sky outside of her window was lit with the dim predawn. She was glad she'd almost gotten a full night of sleep. Smiling at her luck, she quickly dressed and tiptoed out of the quiet dorm, down the stairs, through the common room and out of the portrait hole.

Her feet took her, out of habit, up to the astronomy tower. As she reached the top she realized how cold it was outside. Her breath turned to fog as she huffed quietly from her ascent.

Apart from the mild epiphany of the cold, her mind was elsewhere. Facing eastward, she let her mind wander. Her thoughts took her to mystical places she never had a hope of going to, playing events in her mind she never had a hope of experiencing, saying things she never had the gall to say.

The sudden breaking of the dawn blinded her and caused her to gasp. When her sight returned, she nearly gasped again at the beautiful sight before her. The sunlight bore down on the grounds alighting the world as though it were made of diamonds. The world was truly a wondrous place if something so cold could make one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.

Little did she know that a pair of grey eyes watching her from afar had had the same thought. Though, the subject of admiration was different entirely.

-:-

While the day dawned bright and clear for her (albeit with a rocky start), she couldn't help but notice that things were quite a bit different for her strangely quiet redhead friend.

"Come on, Ron. You'll be fine today." Harry nudged Ron with his elbow. "You won the tryout fair and square, didn't he Hermione?" Harry eyed her.

"Umm, yeah. Fair and square." Hermione said uncomfortably. Ron was just acting oddly today. "Ronald, you're a great keeper. You'll show them up today."

If it was possible he looked slightly more put out at the tone of her voice.

"We're gonna lose!" he bellowed putting his head on the table.

Hermione decided to let her friend stew about it on his own. She picked up a conversation with Ginny. They hadn't gotten much farther than pleasantries when Hermione noticed a quick flash of gold and Harry's hand dart back under the table.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she questioned

"Nothing." He shifted his eyes to his uneaten toast.

"Harry!" she asked quietly, "Did you just put the Felix Felicis potion into Ron's pumpkin juice?"

"Not at all, Hermione. I don't know what you're talking about." He continued to shift his gaze to anything but her eyes.

"Harry! That's cheating!" she said, aghast.

"Its not like I used a confundus charm." He said, looking pointedly at her.

Point taken.

Ron had obviously heard despite her whispers because he took one large swig of his pumpkin juice and smirked, clapping Harry on the back.

"Come on, mate. Lets go play some quidditch!"

Harry grinned at her as he stood to go with Ron. Hermione just rolled her eyes and huffed. She'd made her bed, now she would just have to lie in it.

Given that her friends had left and she'd lost her appetite, she stood and bade her other Gryffindors farewell and made her way out of the great hall. Despite her mysterious dreams and quidditch, life goes on and she still had homework to think about and grades to keep up.

The match was yet still two hours distant, and no doubt the library would be empty, those who normally use it otherwise occupied. She relished the emptiness of it, though seldom had the opportunity.

As she walked briskly towards the library, she decided to take a shortcut past Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which she normally avoided. However, she only had a limited amount of time with the library to herself so she decided to walk by just this once, for whatever discomfort running into Myrtle would cause, having more time would be worth it.

Definitely worth it.

She subconsciously steeled herself against any sounds of crying she might have heard from Myrtle. Whatever crying she might have expected did not prepare her for what she really heard. For indeed crying she did hear, but the sort of crying that instantly breaks ones heart, regardless of who's it is. It was also unmistakably male.

Sympathy for this nameless person welled up inside her and her breathing hitched in her throat. She stepped closer to the door and listened more carefully. She heard that he was speaking in between bouts of sobbing, and a female voice, which she recognized as Myrtle's, speaking softly in reply.

If she didn't know better she would almost say that Myrtle was consoling him. She would have chuckled at the irony if she didn't feel as though her heart was breaking right along with this mysterious boys'.

She stepped closer and listened even further.

"...will kill me and my parents. How does he expect me to do this?"

"Oh, Drakey, there there, it will be okay." Myrtle was almost unrecognizable.

"That's the thing! It wont be okay! I'm not a murderer! I can't...I can't do this!" He broke down into another bout of sobbing.

Hermione felt like she recognized the voice, however she couldn't put a face or name to it. Just a few more steps and she would be able to see...she stopped her thoughts right there. It would be a terrible invasion of privacy. Obviously they didn't want anyone living to be privy to their inner shame.

Too wrapped up in her struggle with her curiosity, she didn't know she was about to get her wish. She didn't hear when he bade Myrtle farewell and stepped into the doorway...where Hermione happened to be eavesdropping. She was met with the shocked and tearstained face of none other than Draco Malfoy.

In the course of a millisecond his shocked face mutated into a scowl and he clenched his fists. "How much did you hear?" he growled, his voice still thick with recent crying.

A silent tear made it way down her face at his hollow looking eyes.

"Enough." she whispered.

"I don't need the pity of a filthy mudblood like you." He hissed at her, glaring. Neither paid mind to an indignant 'I'm muggle-born too!' from Myrtle. His eyes betrayed his fear.

He was afraid she would tell someone, tell Harry, she realized. No doubt Harry would find this to be proof of his wild claims, and give him reason to mock Draco. But Hermione was not childish in this manner. Not when the sobs broke her heart too.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, if that's what you're afraid of." She said evenly, refusing to allow his comments to hurt her.

Malfoy eyed her uncomfortably, and nodded sharply once before pivoting on his heel and stalking away. Hermione just watched him go. When he was gone she leaned heavily against the stone wall and let out a deep sigh.

Definitely not worth it.

-:-

If Malfoy's crying broke her heart, then her heart tore completely in two at the sight before her: Ron eating the face off of that tramp, Lavender Brown. She let out a small sound and turned to Harry.

"I have to go." she said forcefully.

Turning from the excitement of the impromptu common room party, Harry questioned her.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione laughed darkly, "No."

And that was all she said before darting out of the common room and making her way to the first secluded spot she could find. The only thing she could do was cry.

She barely registered Harry calling her name. She sorely hoped he wouldn't find her. She wouldn't be able to stand it if he were here. This was just plain embarrassing, crying over that cad. She stopped her sniffling and waited until his footsteps faded away and she could resume trying to hold on to pieces of her broken heart.

She looked out of the window, and noted to her delight that it was now snowing. It was open to the world, but magically charmed to hold in the heat of the castle. Why, then, did she still feel so cold?

She didn't know how long she had been crying when a voice startled her.

"Crying over the Weasel cannot possibly be good for your health."

Standing across from her was Draco Malfoy. He leaned casually on the window frame across from her. He was the epitome of relaxed. Only his eyes gave him away to being anything but.

She was stunned "How did you...?"

"You're not the only clever person in existence, Granger."

She glared, "What would a ferret like you know about me?"

He shrugged, "That you're a know-it-all who believes herself to be much cleverer than perhaps even Dumbledore himself."

She scoffed.

"I also happen to know," he continued "That mudblood Granger has quite a bit of an attraction to the Weasel."

She scoffed again, "Oh, yes, continue to antagonize the crying girl. Way to be the gentleman, Malfoy."

"Just doing my best to serve the world." He said innocently.

"At least I don't cry to Moaning Myrtle." She said harshly. "What? You-Know-Who's gonna kill your mummy and daddy?"

She realized it was a mistake to say it the moment it left her mouth. His eyes darkened and he stood up straight, and for the first time she realized just how tall he was. While he usually used his words to try to get to her, had had never attempted violence on her. She hoped he didn't start now.

His face was a mask of pure fury. He clenched and unclenched his hands while trying to hold himself back.

"You know nothing, you bitch."

He stormed off in a rage, and Hermione grabbed her chest in order to stop her heart from jumping right out. Hermione being a Gryffindor or not, Malfoy was just plain scary when pissed off.

For the first time since running into Malfoy in the second floor bathroom, she thought about what it was that he had been saying. Harry suspected Malfoy of being involved in something nefarious, and she scoffed every time he even alluded to it. But, if what she overheard was true, and if Malfoy's reaction was any indication, Harry was right. More right than even he knew.

Malfoy was up to something, something that if he failed, could cost his life and the lives of his parents. Malfoy was just a kid, like her, and no matter how much he annoyed her, he didn't deserve that. Nobody did, no matter their loyalties.

Talking to Harry wasn't an option, she knew, because he wouldn't stop to think before throwing accusations around or doing something foolish. But she knew of one person, trusting, kind, and ultimately the farthest thing from impulsive and foolish a person could be.

Dumbledore.

-:-

When she decided that she would speak to Dumbledore, she didn't exactly think of how to go about doing it. He proved a hard man to find when she got right down to it. He was busy and she was busy so a week passed before she finally thought to go to Professor McGonagall.

When her transfiguration lesson drew to a close, she held back and waited for the classroom to empty. Busy with grading papers at her desk, McGonagall didn't notice Hermione standing near her desk. Hermione let out a small cough.

"Oh! Miss Granger, is there something you need." She sounded startled.

"Yes, actually." Hermione smiled sweetly, "I was wondering if I could ask, when is a good time to speak to the headmaster?"

"Miss Granger, the headmaster is a busy man, what do you need to speak to him about that you cannot speak to myself or any other staff member about?"

Hermione looked down, "Its complicated, Professor."

"I daresay, I think I can understand complicated. I have taught students for many years."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "Its about Draco Malfoy."

McGonagall pursed her lips and gave her a stern expression. "Don't tell me Mr. Potter put you up to this? Unless you have proof Miss Granger, there is nothing I can do for you."

"Professor," she said hastily, "You misunderstand me. Harry knows nothing of my concerns and I assure you, mine are based in reality."

McGonagall didn't let up her stern look. "I'm listening, Miss Granger."

"A week ago I overheard Malfoy in a...a discussion with the ghost, Myrtle. He spoke about how he had a task to complete and that if he didn't, both he and his parents would be killed." Hermione paused to let this sink in before continuing, "Professor, that sounds an awful lot like a tactic you-know-who would employ to ensure his will be done."

McGonagall pondered this a moment. "I thank you, for thinking to come to me about this. I will inform the headmaster about what you heard. I'm sure he will want to hear it from you as well."

"Thank you for believing me, Professor." She smiled. While McGonagall did not smile, her expression softened.

"You are a clever girl, Miss Granger, you do not allow your prejudices to form into baseless accusations. You did the right thing. You may go now."

Hermione nodded and turned to leave.

"And Miss Granger?"

Hermione was already halfway across the classroom before turning around.

"While you have a great loyalty for your friends, I must impress upon you the need for discretion with this information. Especially with Mr. Potter."

Hermione nodded, "I understand, professor."

-:-

It was shortly after dinner when she received the owl summoning her to the headmaster's office. She put off the curious questions from her friends and made her way up to his office as soon as she was able. Professor McGonagall met her at the statue of the gargoyle and didn't say a word, simply letting her into his office.

When they got to the top of the spiral staircase, they stepped into the office. Hermione was met with the sight of Malfoy seated in front of the headmaster's desk and Dumbledore standing to greet them.

"Thank you, Minerva."

McGonagall nodded respectfully to him and left the office.

"Welcome, Miss Granger. Lemon drop?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, thank you, professor."

He just smiled at her before getting down to business.

"Professor McGonagall has told me of your concerns, Miss Granger."

Hermione didn't say anything. She was more concerned with trying to ignore Malfoy's angry gaze.

"But," Dumbledore continued, "I must inform you that I already knew."

Both she and Malfoy looked at him in surprise. Though she didn't know why she was surprised at all; he knew everything that happened in the castle.

"Though, I did not have any proof to justify these claims, and for that I thank you, Miss Granger."

"Yo...you're welcome, professor." Her voice cracked. Malfoy had resumed his cold glare.

"But, I did not bring you two here to discuss what I already knew. I brought you here to discuss what we plan to do about it."

Malfoy's face turned into a grimace before bellowing angrily, "What can we possibly do about it! He's going to kill me and my parents if I don't do what he says!"

"Not if you are already dead." Dumbledore smiled at their looks of confusion.

"From what I have come to understand, this task would be impossible for anyone of your age and experience. Voldemort does not wish you to survive this task, in fact, I'm sure he means for you not to. No doubt a punishment for your father at his failure."

Malfoy paled at his words. "What did you mean by 'If I'm already dead'?" he said hollowly.

"Mr. Malfoy, he may appear as such to you, but Lord Voldemort is not omniscient."

"If it looked like you had died trying to complete the task, he wouldn't ask questions." Hermione finally spoke up. "May I ask what this task is supposed to be?"

"His task is to kill me."

If it were possible, Malfoy looked even paler at these words. Hermione's mouth formed a small "o" as she processed this.

"So what do we do?" she finally said after a moment. "Do we stage the death of his doppleganger and send the real him into hiding?"

"Precisely, Miss Granger." Dumbledore turned to Malfoy, "You always have a choice, Mr. Malfoy, whether you think you do or not."

Malfoy stayed silent, staring at nothing. She had a feeling he was referring to their conversation before she entered the room.

"Miss Granger, there is also one more reason for you to be here. Mr. Malfoy is not yet a full fledged wizard and still has much to learn. I would ask that while he is in hiding, you tutor him on the 6th year material you cover in your own classes."

She nodded mutely. After all, who else was going to? Who else could?

"Good. You leave tonight, Mr. Malfoy." He didn't say a word. Dumbledore smiled sadly.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. You may leave now."

She nodded again standing up and turning to leave, but not before giving Malfoy a sympathetic look. He looked up at her with no expression, brown meeting grey, and for just a moment she thought she could see hope there.

When she blinked it was gone, so she turned and left.

-:-

The next morning she was greeted with the solemn whispers that told of Malfoy's untimely and accidental death. From what she could gather, he had apparently broken into Dumbledore's office and thrown a killing curse at him, only to have it deflected by Dumbledore's powerful shield spell and be killed with his own curse. Of course, she knew better.

When they got the Daily Prophet that morning, it was confirmed. Draco Malfoy was officially dead. She chuckled at how easily Dumbledore had pulled the wool over their eyes. Even she would have believe it had she not been present at its planning. It made her wonder how many times Dumbledore had done things like this.

"I knew it!" Harry exclaimed, "I knew he was up to something!"

She internally kicked herself. Of course Harry would feel vindicated. After all he had been right, even if it had only been based on a grudge.

"Its such a shame really." She said, faking a sad tone.

Harry looked like she grew a second head. "'A shame'? What do you mean? He was a git and he tried to kill Dumbledore! He was working for Voldemort!"

"Yeah!" Ron chimed in, "Good riddance, I say."

Hermione frowned. Were they really so blind to their hatred?

"You shouldn't speak ill of the dead." She said darkly, "He may have been coerced, or even imperioused. He wasn't even a fully fledged wizard. You just don't know."

"Yeah, yeah. He was still a right git." Ron admitted grudgingly.

Harry sighed, "You're right, Hermione. This is serious. Students are working for Voldemort now."

"Its a frightening prospect." She whispered.

Harry stared blankly at the table in solemn silence. Ron resumed stuffing his face.

"For the record, I was right that he was up to something."

Hermione gave him a weak smile. "Yes you were. But now that you know the truth, you can put it aside and put that energy into your lessons with Dumbledore. That's where your focus should be now."

Harry nodded silently.

-:-

A shadow loomed over Hogwarts following the news of Draco's death. Slytherin students mourned, in their own way, the loss of one of their own; The rest of the school wary of the notion that underage students were being conscripted into You-Know-Who's army. Hogwarts was one of the last safe havens. Hermione could only hope students wouldn't lose sight of that, and that morale would improve in short order.

A quiet week passed for Hermione, until she was called up to Dumbledore's office once again.

"Hello Miss Granger." He smiled at her warmly.

"Hello, Professor." she smiled in return.

"Do you remember that I had asked if you would tutor Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, I'd like you to begin. I have allowed Mr. Malfoy a week to get settled, but he must not fall behind. If you would come to my office every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at precisely 7pm in order to floo to his hiding place. You are to return at 9pm."

He indicated to the fireplace to her left.

"Shall I go now?"

"Yes, Miss Granger."

she turned to the fireplace and pulled out a handful of floo powder, when something occurred to her.

"Umm, professor? Where is he?"

"Headquarters." He smiled

-:-

When she stepped out of the fireplace she recognized the bright kitchen in the otherwise gloomy Grimmauld Place. She was greeted by Mrs. Weasley who, she noticed, was wearing an apron, no doubt cooking up some food for the residents.

"Hermione dear! How are you? Dumbledore told me you would be coming. Would you care for some stew?"

"Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I already had dinner." Hermione said politely.

"No matter. I suppose you'll be wanting to get straight to work then?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Hermione smiled.

"Very well, dear. He's in the library. Holed himself up in there, and really only comes out for meals. Doesn't feel very welcome, I expect."

Hermione laughed "I wouldn't either if I were being held in the headquarters of the enemy as though I'm a prisoner 'for my own good'."

"Its is very noble what you are doing, dear. Not many would claim such an open kindness as their own. Its acts like these that separate us from evil." Mrs. Weasley mused on this for a moment, and then sighed, "But are you sure you can do this? Just because Dumbledore asked doesn't mean you are obligated to."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I'm sure." Hermione said, "Its like you said...We need to do things like this because if we don't, we're as hateful as they are. He's just a kid like Harry, Ron and I. I would never wish this on anyone."

Mrs. Weasley just nodded and Hermione took her leave. She walked lightly through the halls out of habit. No need to wake the portrait of Mrs. Black and cause undue disruption to the Order's daily activities. Coming up to the door of the library, she knocked lightly. She waited for what she considered to be an appropriate amount of time before letting herself in.

She wasn't greeted with foul words or an angry sneer, as she had expected. No, it was something else entirely. She was greeted by the sleeping form of Draco Malfoy, face pressed heavily onto the pages of an open book.

She giggled at how silly he looked. His hair was sticking up wildly and his arms were sprawled across the desk. He was even drooling a bit. She couldn't help but find this Draco to be very endearing.

Hold on...had she just thought of him as 'Draco'?

No matter how cute (she mentally cringed at this word) he might have looked, it was no reason to go about thinking of him as 'Draco'. They were nowhere near being on a first name basis.

She couldn't help tacking on a 'yet' to the end of her thoughts.

Occupied by her own musings she didn't notice Malfoy begin to stir, no doubt from her tinkling laughter, until he muttered a curse and groaned. She waited patiently for him to notice her standing there. And notice he did.

The moment he spotted her, he shrieked like a cat and fell backwards off his chair. Hermione started cracking up.

"Oh God, Malfoy," She said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye, "You should have seen your face."

He frowned and grumbled something that sounded like 'stupid mudblood' before getting up and reclaiming his former place at the desk.

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly after a long moment of purposely not looking at her.

"What? You don't remember?"

"Remember what?" he asked impatiently.

"I'm here to bring you your homework, and review the lessons with you so that you can keep up with your schooling." She said, matter-of-factly. "You can't tell me you don't remember this. You were present for the planning."

He groaned loudly now. "Is it not enough that I've got to be trapped here with bloody former Gryffindors all day long, I have to keep doing school work too? I knew the old man set out to torture me from the start!"

Hermione frowned. "There's no need for melodrama. Be grateful that Mrs. Weasley is feeding you and that you have the option to continue your education at all! Most would label you a traitor and lock you away. Be even more grateful you're not facing the wrath of You-Know-Who and your death instead of the kindness of Dumbledore with a warm bed and three meals a day!"

"Just who do you think you are?" Malfoy asked acidly.

"Just who do you think you are?" she replied angrily.

"I am Draco, son of Lucius of the most noble house of Malfoy, and I will not be spoken to as if I'm some vagrant, much less by you!"

"Newsflash, Mr.'I think I'm better than everyone else', you are a vagrant."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Just look it up in the dictionary!" She finally shouted, "I don't have time for your petty antics!"

It was then she realized just how close they had gotten in their argument. Their noses were almost touching. She could see clearly the angry flush that had crept into his pale cheeks...

She took one large step back, and let out and uncomfortable cough. He must have too, because he didn't respond to her last comment. After a long moment Malfoy finally broke the awkward silence.

"So, Granger, where is the homework you were supposed to bring me? I've been here a week and its starting to get extremely boring."

"Its..." she realized she didn't have it in her hand. "Oh! Its probably in the kitchen. I must have left it there when I was speaking to Mrs. Weasley."

"Smart, Granger." he replied sarcastically.

She huffed and decided not to encourage him.

"Well, come on then." she said, and turned to leave.

As her back was turned to him, she was not privy to the silent look of fear that crossed Malfoy's face. She had taken a few steps before she realized that he was not with her, and she turned around again. He attempted to school his features before she saw, and it had almost worked, but Hermione was too quick.

"Malfoy," she said mockingly, "the bunch of 'bloody former Gryffindors' are not going to hurt you."

"That's not what I'm worried about." he grumbled.

"What? Worried they're going to treat you like you're a piece of scum?"

He frowned, but said nothing, not even looking in her direction.

"Well, welcome to the club." she said waspishly, and turned quickly on her heel leaving him in the library to stew in his own thoughts.

-:-

After an exhausting first tutoring session, Hermione wanted nothing more than to sink into her duvet and fall into peaceful slumber. But sleep wouldn't come easily, and when it finally did, it wouldn't linger. That night was long and difficult for Hermione, filled with darkness and fear. Her dreams haunted her...

The man in her dreams had been nameless and faceless until tonight. Tonight he had been unceremoniously replaced by the likeness of Draco Malfoy. This both intrigued and worried her: Worried because she felt that her mind was reacting poorly to the stressors in her life, and intrigued because his face had neither been a sneer nor a frown. No, his face had been gentle, tender even. The details faded quickly from her mind, in the way that dreams do, leaving her with just her curiosity and dark thoughts.

She prided herself on her ability to keep a level head; To approach the world with forthrightness and logic. The incredible irony of being a witch with this line of thinking was not lost on Hermione. Errant thoughts danced around in her head as she tried in vain to clear her mind. There was only one option, she figured, as she stared at the hangings of her four-poster bed. This option was exactly opposite of forthright and logical.

She would give herself hell for this, when she was well rested, but this was her last ditch effort. She climbed out of bed and made her way up to the seventh floor in another wing of the castle. Up and up a long spiral staircase until she came upon the place she hated even contemplating going to in her moment of weakness.

She walked into a dimly lit classroom, empty for the late hour, the smell of incense wafting into her nose and making her lightheaded. At each table sat a crystal ball, simple and unadorned. But the majesty of the group was sitting on the front desk. Larger than the others, cleaner and less worn, it sat upon a mount of golden dragons twisting and swirling around it, with the magic that helped create it.

Mesmerized she sat in the chair before the desk and stared into the shining glass. Her vision blurred and distorted, and then suddenly, a clear picture formed in her mind.

It was her, yet somehow slightly older, wearing tattered clothing, covered in grime with a cut above her left eyebrow. She wielded her wand in front of her in a battle stance. after she got over the shock of seeing herself, she noticed the battle raging around her counterpart. Curses and hexes flying everywhere, bright flashes and rocks crumbling from walls. The destruction left the area unrecognizable.

Her counterpart wandered over to a hidden alcove, presumably to rest a moment and gather her wits before returning to the fight. A blonde man found her location and hugged her immediately. The blonde man she recognized as Draco. She felt curiosity, but could form no questions in her present state of mind. She saw them speaking, but heard nothing. A not-so-chaste kiss confirmed her niggling curiosity. As they stood on the edge of the battle she could hear the last words as though they had been whispered into her own ear.

"For Aurora."

The pair charged forward and her vision blurred and faded once more.

Returning to the present she heaved heavily. She felt like her chest was going to rip open. Oh Merlin she's gone and done it now! She finally snapped and started seeing hallucinations. Maybe Harry and Ginny were right about her studying so much. Maybe they...

"The minds eye seems to open wider when one is sleep deprived. No one is completely sure why."

Hermione jumped, eyes wide at the bespectacled professor Trelawney in front of her.

"What...you...I..." She stammered, still not able to catch her breath. She cleared her throat.

"What did I just see?" She asked.

"Only the person gazing upon the ball can see. If I were to look upon it, I would see only what I am meant to see."

"What am I meant to see?" Hermione asked desperately, her heart still trying to abandon her.

"A Lion and a Snake, will bear the greatest gift

A Haze of fear these two shall hope to lift

A symbol of unity, so named for the goddess of the dawn

Will embody the beauty of the world to look upon

One heart of stone, one heart of ice

Melt and crumble to make the ultimate sacrifice."

Hermione stared at the professor before her unblinkingly. Trelwaney didn't seem to notice her stare.

"Its an old prophecy, one I think will come into fruition before this war is over."

"What you mean to say is that the lion and the snake, that is, Draco and I, will come together to bring some sort of gift to save the world?"

"Not exactly, but basically, yes. Interesting that you should choose Draco Malfoy as 'the snake' in this case."

Hermione stared at her again for a moment. She then burst out laughing. And continued to laugh until her stomach could take no more.

"And once more, the eye is firmly shut within you."

"Yes, I quite like to think that my head is on straight, thank you."

Trelawney simply frowned. Hermione saw this as an opportunity to take her leave.

As she neared the door she heard Trelwaney's voice swirl around her.

"Reoccurring dreams are a sign of prophecy, my dear."


End file.
